I will sort myself out

I haven't blogged since last year... That was a startling discovery (not the fact that I haven't been a terribly punctual writer, but that it's been that long since I last imposed upon you dear readers). You're probably wondering why and without wishing to bore you, I simply haven't had the time or the inclination to. In fact, I don't know why I sat at my keyboard this morning. In truth, I woke up, was about to walk downstairs to make myself a coffee and take my hay fever tablet when I found myself walking back to bed and cocooning myself in the quilt with my laptop perched on my arched knees.

Wow, bit of purple prose for you there.

Anyway, the past few months, returning to bed with no desire to get up has been normal, but not what I am doing at this present moment, which is of course writing to you all (that is, if you're still bothering to check my blog, which I wouldn't blame you if you'd ceased doing). After randomly perusing my feed of David Tennant blog updates and what have you and realising I had no new comments to my blog (which was saddening) I hit 'new post' and began to write this drivel.

Apologies.

I find it ironic how I found it relatively easy to write when I had naff all to say and now, when I have so many things I want to scream and growl about I can't express myself in a way that makes me clear to everyone. Needless to say at the moment I am beyond frustrated and I wish I could properly detail the hell I have been trying to survive but I fear that I can't. Instead I shall simply record here the momentous things that have happened to me since I last wrote and will leave it at that.

I struggled to complete the work for my first semester of third year because of personal reasons (namely being distracted by someone, being distracted by my own pathetic self and not being able to concentrate). Somehow over the hell of the Christmas holidays I managed to complete the work. Why were they hell?

Over Christmas my mother and father had a blazing row, the details of which I won't bore you with by going into. It resulted in their separation (thankfully a less prolonged process than the first time), which has caused me a great deal of stress. It was decided my mother, sister and I would move out. A move which cost me the entirety of my second maintenance grant payment from university. That quite neatly condenses the amount of arguments, tears and days where I didn't want to exist anymore quite nicely.

My beloved rabbit, Tilly, died on the 7th March 2011. For months we'd been medicating her arthritis, for a week before I knew the end was coming because my little bunny just wasn't herself. She was weak and helpless not the cheeky little madame we all knew and adored. I cried so much I didn't know it was possible (at that moment, I've cried a hell of a lot since) and was completely desolate. I had her cremated which was an expensive thing to do, but it was the last thing I could do for her and I couldn't bear the thought of her being alone and cold in a garden that was 'hers' but where I couldn't visit her every day or where foxes could dig her up (we used to live on the edge of a forest). At least now she can stay in the warm with us wherever we are. I know that's sentimental, but I really don't care what you think.

On 8th March 2011 I moved house. Talk about stress overload. No Internet access at the new house meant the removal of the one person who'd been keeping me sane (well as sane as I possibly could be). I couldn't access uni resources from home or other research facilities to help with my dissertation and course work. In the end I resorted to whatever time I could use on computers in public libraries and taking my laptop into uni (which I said I'd never do).

On April 7th we finally got the Internet reconnect at home. I have never been so excited or happy.

These past few months I have been struggling to complete my dissertation and other module projects which I managed to do, thankfully. I finished everything to the best of my ability and to show for it I have a BA (Hons) in Creative & Professional Writing and English Second class First division. It means I have secured my place on my Primary PGCE this September at my first choice university. I should feel proud and excited, but I don't. I just feel empty.

Graduation is another thing I've been working towards and have waited these past 3 years for, hoping I'd be able to make it. Now I'm not sure I even want to go, again for reasons I shan't go into.

I have treated those closest to me with, well I can't describe it. I have been evil to everyone and I can only apologise from the bottom of my heart. I wish I could explain what I've been feeling and how I've been thinking, how I still am. I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I don't even know why I'm making a public apology on here because those affected don't read this or don't read regularly as far as I'm aware.

I would go into what I'm going through now, the constant ups and downs and waves of total anguish, of this aching feeling in what I can only assume is my soul and the copious amounts of tears I have shed. I have always been a relatively happy and optimistic person, sometimes cynical (which is when I tend to write) and sarcastic, but still happy. I used to be able to see the good things in life and to find reasons to hope. I can't seem to do that anymore. I want any escape I can find and yet half the time I don't have the inclination to do anything apart from wallow in my own despair. Pretty dark, huh?

I am stupid really; it has to be said. I don't learn from my mistakes, if anything I make them again but worse. I push people away by trying to rectify past mistakes. I tend to rush things that make me happy because I feel like I've missed out on things. I long to be patient and calm. There is something, I suppose you could say someone, that I'm waiting for. I thought I was strong enough to handle it. It was exciting and new to me to begin with, but now I feel like I'm wishing away every day merely so I'm closer to a day that hasn't even been named, just 'some day'. I've come to realise I can't live like this. I need to get out, to live. I'm not saying that I won't keep waiting, I will because I truly believe that they're worth it and I don't want to be wrong. I've just realised that I need to sort myself out first and I will... even if it doesn't feel like it right now. I hope today is just another down day.

And on that note I shall end, before I write anymore drivel or depress any readers I have left further still.

Aloha.

"But Stephen Fry says it!"

Aloha readers. Toffy is having trouble concentrating on, well, anything at the moment. I'm having one of those weeks where I can't seem to focus - probably because I've been doing bits of uni work every day since we returned to uni and I've melted my brain. Thus, I've been trying to solidify this brain soup into something useable. Today I actually managed to dome some uni work again (woo!) and send emails and what not to my tutees (who still either haven't contacted me at all, or haven't realised they don't know how to add attachments. Bless).

Anyhow, the purpose of this blog is to put forth a blog about the Legend, nay the God that is Mr Stephen Fry. That man is just... there are no words in my head to describe him. My vocabulary is not articulate enough.

Why the sudden random blog about this awesome figure of entertainment and enlightenment? Well, I was with my uni friends the other day and I said 'lavatory' and they said "ooooh how posh are you?" or something like that.

My memory's like a leaky sieve at the moment, so forgive any slightly out of whack details... Not that you'd know what they are as you weren't there.

Crap-ness of memory aside, I remarked that I shouldn't say 'lavatory' because my Mom doesn't like it. She thinks it sounds vile and/or unsavory for reasons only known to her and prefers me to say 'loo' or 'toilet'.

The first time she told me off for saying 'lavatory' my excuse was thus:

"But Mom, Stephen Fry says 'lavatory'!"

I bet you can imagine my utter disbelief when she wouldn't accept this as a logical reason to broaden her lexicon.

Anyway, it got me thinking. I've been meaning to do a blog about creative uses of language (mainly in the realm of cursing). One Friday I was discussing alternatives to cursing with the uni girls and I've been meaning to blog it since then (I'm a terribly good procrastinator). 'What are your alternatives to cursing then Toffy?' I hear you cry. Well...

1. Bananas in pyjamas!
2. Monkey wrench!
3. Donkey flange!
4. Fudge it!
5. Monkey nuts!
6. For the sake of all things Holy!
7. For Fudge's sake!
8. You Camel!
9. You Moose!
10. You Spork!
11. SPORK!
12. S***, F***, B*****, B*******, T**, W***, A***!

Ok, so that last one isn't an alternative to cursing but it feels really good to say (I've written it that way for any sensitive readers I have).

So what are Stephen Fry's thoughts on cursing? I leave you with this clip from QI where Stephen Fry, Rob Brydon and Rich Hall discuss cursing, whilst exploring the topic of bell ringing with Alan Davies and Bill Bailey...

Hope you all enjoyed that :)

Aloha.

Brain Soup

Howdy dear readers and before you give me GBH of the ear hole with "where the naffing hell have you been?" and such like I will promise right now that I won't give an exceedingly long list of excuses, just the following timeless classics:

1. I have been busy. Deal with it.
2. Certain family members are Morons. Notice the capital 'm'.
3. I've had nothing interesting to say.

That last one might cause some controversy. I know you're all thinking 'but Toffy, you never have anything interesting to say'. This is true, but usually I can take that rubbish and polish it into drivel.

Lately, I haven't even been able to manage that. My brain has surpassed the mush stage and gone straight to soup.

Actually, I might write a book called Brain Soup one day. Simply because I think it makes a rather fine title, don't you agree?

Anyway, I shan't apologise for rambling, the clue's in the blog name if you were expecting anything less. Nor shall I rant about how I didn't get to go to the theatre last night, despite buying tickets and looking forward to it immensely - most of the people who read this will have already heard that particular rant and I don't wish to bore them. *Waves to the uni people*

The point of this blog entry? There isn't one really, it's mainly because I haven't written in a while so I thought I should. However, just for my own personal satisfaction and notes... :

1. Progress with dissertation - have a new title, a plan and a collection of 7 books from the library, 8 including the one appropriately named How to write your undergraduate dissertation
2. Progress with novel - written first section. Must stop editing first section. Must write more. Finally penned a plan last week... Only started writing the naffing novel 5 months ago... Ooops
3. Have finally come up with an idea for Teaching Writing research project. Whether it is workable or not is still up for debate
4. Should really get back to my 18th Century lit forum post...

Yeah, that last one I should really pay attention to right now. The deadline's not until midnight Tuesday, but I like to get them done so I don't have them hanging on my mind anymore.

Aloha everyone.

Toffy is done...ish

I finished Persuasion at 00:20 this morning. I danced. I then went downstairs, grinned at my Mom and danced some more.

That's another book polished off in less than a day and with a day to spare before my first lecture back at uni, how cool is that?

I also managed to (finally) get the module guide for 18th Century lit off the net on Sunday and within five minutes of looking at the reading list I had ordered the necessary texts for just over £20 from Amazon. 3/4 have already been dispatched so when they arrive (hopefully before Saturday) I can make a start on them.

Get me with the on the ball-ness.

Speaking of Amazon, the first part of my haul of DVDs arrived yesterday and are looking rather pretty on my shelf. I now have a newer version of Sense and Sensibility to add to my adaptation starring Emma Thompson, the Gwyneth Paltrow and Romola Garai adaptations of Emma (I also have another version on order in a box set on the way so I'm bound to find a version I can take to), Persuasion with the lovely Rupert Penry-Jones and Sally Hawkins, as well as North and South starring Daniela Denby-Ashe and Richard Armitage and Jane Eyre starring Ruth Wilson and Toby Stephens.

I'm still awaiting the ITV box set of Emma, Mansfield Park and Northanger Abbey as well as my book order.

I am less happy with the possibility of having to take my lovely house rabbit to the vet's today. She's an OAP by bunny standards and has been having periods of sitting awkwardly recently. Last night's was a lot longer than usual and I'm really concerned for her. We reckon she's developing joint pain because she won't jump out of her cage anymore, we have to pick her up which she never liked before.

Oh well. So much the sigh worthy points in my life. I am off to fuss said rabbit and decide whether to have cereal or a bacon sandwich for breakfast.

Yeah, on a slightly weird tangent, who butters their bread for a bacon sandwich? We had a conversation in sixth form 'cause this girl buttered one side of her bacon sandwich (apparently to butter both would have been disgusting). I personally don't butter my bread at all, surely its adding unnecessary grease to an already slightly greasy breakfast? I prefer to ketchup it up or have BBQ sauce, but that's just me.

Aloha :)

Toffy proves she is an Austen Addict

Good morning readers, well if it's morning for you, if it be another time of day, good that as well.

Toffy is a zombie this morning folks. I finished reading Miss Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey last night, well this morning at 00:35. Not in a very long while have I managed to finish a book in approximately twelve hours. Not even J. K. Rowling at the height of my Harry Potter craze managed that.

Which just proves that I am right to call myself an Austen Addict.

So yes, I have completed 2 books in 2 days, no bad accomplishment I can tell you, even if I had been endeavouring to read Emma for what seemed like an age. I don't know what was wrong with me, I just couldn't get gripped by Emma like I could the other works, Mom says she was the same. Having said that, the latter chapters did pick up pace and I stormed through them easy enough. Ah well, only Persuasion left to read now and I can begin my research for my independent study in earnest rather than the bits and pieces of ideas and follow up scouting that I have been doing. I am looking forward to the more coherent thought, but not to the eye strain, which I think I am perfectly acceptable to lament.

Oh get me with the posh-ish vocab... Oh what a come down and such a short thought (I would say sentence, but that seems a little too liberal)... Ah stuff it, its my blog I shall do as I wish.

Anyway, I'm shattered frankly. I'm also slightly regretting agreeing to go ice skating with my bessie friend (well one of the very few, very dear friends) today. I have a feeling I shall do myself some sort of injury, I often do in my exuberance, but such is life - I would be rather cliched but still high brow in noting the French version instead, but I've forgotten how to spell it and I don't wish to look like an idiot, or as Miss Jane Austen would say, a simpleton.

You're probably wondering why I keep referring to the esteemed authoress as 'Miss Jane Austen', well to refer to her as anything else, considering my very limited, well non-existent, personal acquaintance with her and the sense to know a little of the customs of her contemporary society (thanks to a rather insightful book called Jane Austen's guide to Good Manners by Josephine Ross) it would be extremely rude and deplorable to address said literary genius in any other manner.

So there.

I will say this though, Miss Jane, I thoroughly enjoyed what I perceived as your parodying (I was going to use far coarser language and thought better of it) your contemporary sister authors in Northanger Abbey as well as your rant opposing all those who think novels are stupid. It was a very well composed and just rant, but it did rather take me by surprise and I had to re-read it, mainly because I couldn't believe you had simply ended the chapter there.

Oh well, I must bring this blog to a close because I have things to do (I would say ten thousand things in order to mock your character Miss Thorpe, but I shall refrain, however much I dislike her) before I enjoy the cold brusqueness of the rink and rue the hard slap of ice as I -more than likely - fall flat on my posterior.

Farewell, dear readers, until I can be bothered to write again.

Aloha.

P.S. At least when I read Persuasion I can imagine the lovely Rupert Penry Jones as Captain Wentworth. Hehe. His episode of Who do you think you are? was a cracker, as was his wife's and of course, Alexander Armstrong's. But enough, I must go and shall stay, only to say once more, aloha :)

Toffy in love

No, I'm not ripping off that famous film about Shakespeare, Toffy folks, is in love.

Well, more addicted... to Paramore.

I made the mistake of wandering into HMV before work on Saturday... Needless to say this wandering turn was influenced by a big red sign that said: "SALE!"... I couldn't resist.

Unfortunately, neither could my purse.

So approximately 15 minutes and a 2 for £10 offer later I was leaving the store with brand spanking new copies of Cheryl Cole's 3 words and Paramore's absolutely wonderful Brand New Eyes.

I have not stopped listening to the latter.

What else have I done this week? Well my baking has taken a back seat. In the words of Sarah Millican, I was worried I'd end up with a 'cake shelf', so I've basically gone cold turkey on the baking. Dad's not happy. Oh well, he's diabetic and even if he has no control, I'll bloody take control as much as I can for him.

Also went to see the un-bio sis' yesterday. We watched both Kill Bill films back to back (mainly because my new copy of Sweeny Todd with the delicious Johnny Depp wouldn't read in her DVD player) whilst eating a delightful chili chicken pizza. 'twas awesome.

What have I got in store for myself today I hear you cry? Well, I may or may not get around to updating an old story on fanfiction.net - I did one the other day and my readers were over the moon... though that might have something to do with my year long absence... Whoops.

Mom's hurt her back, so I reckon I'll also be doing some housework and Dad's had an accident in the kitchen this morning apparently, so it looks like the light in my room will not be looked at... again. I've only been without a light in my room since March. But hey, it's me. Not like I need it right?

*Scowls*. Anyway, I suppose I should carry on with my day of joy. Ha.

Oh Paramore, how I love thee, whenever I hear 'The only exception' I can't help but sway and smile. Perhaps today won't be so bad and boring after all.

One can only hope.

Aloha.

Chortle Fest

Ok, so I needed cheering up, basically because I did (I don't want to bore you with particulars) so, after dossing on Facebook and reading some more of Emma I started trawling YouTube... and remembered some comedy gold, or at least I thought so.

The following three clips just go to prove that if you want to get money from the Great British public, all you have to do is get a guy to don drag and dance around a bit.

And this next clip features the brilliant DT (David Tennant) as the ghost of Christmas Present in Catherine Tate's parody of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. Why is this clip here? 1) I love David Tennant, enough said, but I shall continue. 2) His camp Scottish accent in this kills me every time. 3) I can't help but smile at seeing Casanova, nay the DOCTOR, flouncing around and talking like my sister does about fashion. Enjoy (and if you don't, quite frankly my dear, I think there's something wrong with you).

I think that'll do for the chortle fest for now.

Aloha.